Shaped and Drawn
by SyntheticProduct
Summary: Slight AU; Glenn just found her in the middle of the road, standing over a walker with a bloody flashlight in one hand and the other placed on the side of a car, he couldn't just leave her there. Belle had escaped Atlanta, barely, and was discovered by an awkward, Asian boy; she couldn't just say no, especially not to those eyes. Glenn/OC slight Maggie/OC/Glenn later on. ON HIATUS


**Shaped and Drawn**  
_SyntheticProduct_

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**Chapter One: _Hell &amp; Paradise_**

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_Run_

_Run_

_Run_

_Don't look back_

Her breathing was labored as she ran through the streets, one hand clutching the strap of her backpack that was slung over her shoulder and the other held fast to a flashlight that was illuminated the sidewalk in front of her. Her chest felt like it was on fire and she couldn't help but feel her knees tremble with every pounding step she took. The air was stagnant and muggy, it clung to her skin and pooled down her neck.

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

She was just a college student that was studying her passions: drawing and painting. She wasn't suppose to be running through the Atlantic streets at night, fear clutching every fiber in her body, and the dead were _definitely_ not suppose to be walking.

_Run_

_Run_

_Faster_

_Go_

Her heart hammered against her rib cage as her breath caught in her throat; it was parched and dry, even her lips were cracking at the lack of hydration. She couldn't stop, she needed to get out of the city; it was a death trap. A groan broke her from her train of thought, and she quickly ducked into a side alley. The mere sound of someone – something – dragging its feet as they walked and groaning like it did, she knew it was alive. Well, not technically _alive_, but most certainly _undead_. Her breath hitched and she clamped her hands down on her mouth, breathing in through her nose heavily as the shadowy figure passed by. Her flashlight dug into her side as she flicked off the beam. Its head did not even turn an inch to look back at her as it stumbled away. She moved from her knees to the balls of her feet to peek around the corner, her flashlight shining down on the pavement as she made a break towards the edge of town.

Her feet pounded against the asphalt as she ran, the sounds of groans egging her on.

_Don't look back_

_Don't look back_

_Don't look_

She looked back and under the flickering of a street lamp, she saw it. It was the walking dead, a biter – its jaw was unhinged from its mouth and blood poured from the wound, its arm was bent in an unnatural fashion, and it took every bit of her not to vomit on the ground. She turned her head back around and ran through the maze of cars that littered the road, sometimes slamming into them, before mumbling under her breath, "don't look back."

Once she deemed it safe, she stopped running and rested with her hands on her knees; her head pressed between her legs as she panted for air. The cool night breeze brushed against her bare legs and arms making her shiver. The sweat that pooled at the base of her neck quickly washed down the back of her shirt and tickled as it dripped down. It took a moment to realize she was wheezing, her heart began to speed up, and her breath became shallow.

"It's okay," she talked to herself, "I'm okay."Her hand rested against her chest, stilling her rapidly beating heart.  
As the adrenaline began to dissipate, she fell on her knees and curled up into a ball under the tail end of a nearby, abandoned car, "I'm okay," she repeated, "I'm okay."

She didn't sleep. Every sound that was made, every movement that she thought she saw, it woke her. When the sun shone over the horizon, she picked herself up and started walking. She didn't even know where she was walking to exactly, she just knew she needed to get the Hell out of Dodge; Atlanta was no longer safe, the safe zone was overrun and buildings were destroyed by explosions. Was anywhere safe anymore? The question hung in the back of her mind like a haunting image. Her stomach growled, but she pushed back the feeling of hunger.  
Minutes turned into hours and before she knew it, the sun was high in the air and it was beating down her back. She wasn't made for this; she wasn't an outdoorsy person and now she was starting to regret it. She could already feel the sunburn starting to form on her pale skin and it made her itch all over.

Much sooner than later, she stopped and hid under the shade of a tree. She put her backpack down and dug out her University of Georgia sweatshirt and pulled it over her head. Sweat and heat she could take, sunburn she could not. From the same backpack she pulled out her half-empty water bottle and the crackers she kept in there; a snack for when she was hungry during class. She was ravenous. She ate the entire thing of crackers before chugging down a third of the water she had left. She wiped her mouth with the back of her sweatshirt before throwing her bottle back in her back, slipping the light-weight bag over her shoulders, and continuing on her way.  
It was eerie, the way the road looked with all the empty cars. She felt herself shuttering away from the cars, but before long she came across one that had a car door open. She peeked inside and saw a cardboard box lying on the floor. She had always found herself curious and she couldn't help but drag the box closer to her, and to her amazement it was filled with full water bottles and gummy snack packs. Her mouth nearly watered at the sight before she opened her bag and took the bottles of water as well as the gummy snacks; it wasn't much, but it would help fuel her empty stomach as she continued her walk.

"The people who own this car, they're gone; this is okay, right?" More talking to herself; she could practically hear her roommate laughing at her _you know talking to yourself is a sign you're going crazy._ What could be crazier than the dead walking? Nothing. She tried to shut the car door quietly, but as the door gained momentum it slammed against the metal frame with a loud noise. She cringed and looked around at the empty road. She felt the weight roll off her shoulders as she realized she didn't gain any unwanted attention.

That was until she heard a familiar groan. She stiffened, her legs itched to run, but her heart stilled her as one of the biters slammed into the hood of the car she was just searching. Its arms were searching in front of it and as it turned the corner of the car, its eyes met hers. It let out a satisfied groan as it tumbled towards her; she held her flashlight in her hand and felt her grip tighten on it.

"Fuck." The single word fell from her mouth as she swung the flashlight at it, hitting it on the soft spot of the head. The biter fell back onto the road, gurgling and spluttering blood as she stood over it and proceeded to smash the butt of the torch into its eye socket. Blood pooled from underneath its head and the mere sight of it made her queasy; who the hell did she think she was? Buffy the Zombie Slayer? She pulled the flashlight out of the biter's eye, the goo of the mutilated eye and splashing of brain matter were glued to the end of the battery-operated light.

This made her grimace, "that's disgusting."

"You could say that again." Eyes wide and heart up in her throat, she pivoted around on her heel and held the flashlight as if it were a gun. The boy – no – the man stuck his hands up in the air in mock surrender, "I yield." He joked quietly. She couldn't be too sure of anyone or anything, she watched men kill each other over cans of food in Atlanta when everything fell to shit, "hey, I'm not going to hurt you, and I don't think you can really hurt me with that," he pointed to her bloodied flashlight, "even if it makes a good walker killer." She never lowered the flashlight, even if it was embarrassing that he was right; she didn't trust him. Her hands trembled as she white-knuckled the flashlight, narrowing her eyes as they burnt with unsure tears. His eyes softened as he put his hands down, "My name is Glenn, what's your name?" His eyes scanned over her and she was sure she wasn't a pretty sight.  
She knew she was covered in blood, muck, and whatever else she had rolled in trying to get out of Atlanta. She stood her ground even though she also knew she was less than intimidating, she barely was five foot-four and probably looked like a scared rabbit. He sighed when she didn't respond, "look, I know it might be hard to believe, but I want to help you. I have a group about a mile back, I came out here to scavenge the cars," he nodded towards the abandon car next to her, "you look hungry, we have food." His voice sounded hopeful. She couldn't remember the last time she heard someone sound like that. Slowly, but surely she lowered her flashlight and softened her eyes.

"I go by Belle." His eyes lit up like fireworks as he took another step towards her, which made her take a step back. He frowned and stopped, "well Belle, want to get some food? Real food, none of that gummy snack crap."

She narrowed her eyes at him and he realized his mistake, "not that I was watching you or anything I – uh, you dropped one out of your pack in the scuffle." He motioned down towards the ground and Belle's eyes immediately dropped to where he was looking and saw the baby-blue package of gummy snacks. She let a heavy sigh drop from her lips as she looked up at him apologetically, "I'm sorry, I've – I've just seen people kill over people over less." Glenn nodded his head, "understandable. Worlds gone to shit and now we see how bad people can be," it was silent between them for a few moments before Glenn started walking before motioning for her to follow along, "come on, I'll take you back to my camp."

They walked along the outsides of the road, to avoid being seen or heard by any biters, but that doesn't mean they weren't quiet. Well, at least Glenn.

"Uh, so how old are you?" Glenn glanced out of the corner of his eye at the short girl. Belle looked up at Glenn with a tight-lipped smile, "I'm twenty-one, turning twenty-two soon." She picked a rock into the tree lining, watching it roll into the long grass before directing her eyes forward, "how old are you?" She did the same thing with a bigger rock, kicking it with the outside of her shoe and watched the dust rise as it rolled away from her.

"Twenty-three." Silence enveloped them, but it wasn't awkward; at least it wasn't for Belle. She was appreciating that she was in another _living_ human's company for the first time in weeks. She had been on her own for the last couple weeks and before that she was at the safe-zone, which she barely made out of with her life. Glenn began to walk along a dirt road that led into the forest and she stopped at the edge of it, "come on, camp is this way."

"How do I know you're not some serial killer waiting for girls to come along so you can slaughter them?" She tried to sound like she was playfully joking, but she was half considering it as a possibility. Her father had always warned her not to follow strangers, but what was she doing now? Following a stranger. She was sure that her father was rolling over in his grave as she walked carefully behind him. She shuffled her feet and looked around the trees before stepping onto the dirt path.

"If I was a serial killer I would have a hockey mask and a machete, not a baseball cap and a baseball bat." Glenn joked softly.

"They could call you the apocalyptic baseball basher," her voice croaked as it constricted sending her into a coughing fit that caught Glenn off guard. She held up one finger before letting her backpack fall from her shoulders and she opened it to reveal the ten or so water bottles she had taken from the car. She cracked one open and drank greedily from it. She caught Glenn staring at her and momentarily forgot that _maybe he was thirsty too_. She closed her water bottle and got a sealed one out and tossed it to him. She watched as he juggled it for a moment before letting it hit the ground with a sloshing noise.

"Graceful, maybe you aren't the apocalyptic baseball basher." She smiled softly at the Asian boy as he picked the bottle up from the ground.

"I'm usually good at catching things. I was just distracted."

"By what?" Belle asked as she zipped up her pack and put it back on her back. He looked away and scratched his nose, "nothing important." That caught Belle's curiosity. She cocked her head at him and he gave her a shy smile before looking away and opening up the bottle, gulping the clean water. Belle was half certain that it was the way she smelt and looked, but it really could've been anything. Belle's inner mind cursed her; _being insecure in the apocalypse, really?_ Belle brushed it off.

About thirty minutes passed and Glenn led her into a clearing that was filled with people. Well, not filled but there were people nonetheless. The first one that caught her eye was the one marching over with a hand on his gun. He was tall, dark-toned, muscular, and just screamed _fuck with me and I'll kill you_. At least, that was her impression anyway.  
She shied away as he walked closer; his boots hitting the dirt with loud clomps.

"We ask you to go get water, food, supplies, and you bring back a girl with you?" The man hissed through his teeth and Belle felt immediately uncomfortable in his presence, he might've not been a bad guy, but he meant business. Glenn looked clammy as he took his baseball cap off of his head and Belle saw the black hair that lay underneath, "you said to bring back survivors."

"I said to bring back _supplies_," the man gave her a once over, "and she doesn't even look like she could hurt a fly." Belle looked down at her pigeon-toed feet and twisted her hands together, wiping away the sweat that collected on her palms; he was definitely going on her _do not fuck with_ list.

"I saw her beat a walker's face in with a flashlight," the whole sentence came out jumbled and fast, she hardly even heard what Glenn had said, "she can hold her own." Belle nodded her head before setting her bag down on the ground again, fishing out water bottles. She held one out in front of her, giving it to the man, "peace offering." She ushered the bottle into his large hands, the heat practically radiating off of them. The man eyed her bag, "got anymore in there?"

"About ten, maybe. I have some gummy snacks, they're melted and probably sticky, but it's what I found."

"You scavenge?" His eyebrow quirked as he questioned her and her heart fluttered in her chest at the question, did she? Does one car count? She nodded her head, "yes." That was a lie.

"Looks like we might have some use for you," he held out his empty hand, "Name's Shane, pleasure to meet you." Belle grasped his hand and winced at the sheer brute force behind it, giggling inwardly to herself when his hand literally encapsulated hers "Belle." She squeaked out. He let go of her hand and she could see the red marks from his own tracing along her hand, "come on, let's get you settled in shall we?"

Another few hours later, Belle was sure of it this time because the sun started to sink down towards the horizon. It barely brushed against the tops of the trees and it painted the sky bright pinks and oranges; this would be the perfect painting. She'd use sweet pea pink and clementine orange, maybe diluted with some white to make it softer, and let it be off balanced with some periwinkle; this was all wishful thinking however, and she had to shake her head to get rid of the silly idea.

She had met almost everyone in the camp, or had been told their names. Glenn was her tour guide since Shane insisted that he was too busy to _play babysitter_. She wanted to knock the man over the head with her flashlight at that point, so she wasn't sad to see him go.

Glenn introduced her to two sisters, Amy and Andrea, who seemed nice enough. Amy didn't seem like she had a lot going on in her head or maybe it was just the opposite, but she was nice and kind. Andrea was opinionated and high-strung, but she lifted her sister's spirits; it was always nice to see family act like family.

Next was Dale, the old man that was sitting on top of his RV. He had a kind smile and he reminded her of her father when he got into his older years. In turn, Dale waved over a woman named Jacqui. She was the opposite of Andrea, but not quite like Amy; actually, maybe a mixture of the two sisters was more of an adequate description.

Belle wasn't quite sure what to make of the Morales family. The man introduced himself as Juan Morales and the woman introduced herself as Miranda Morales, but Juan insisted on being called Morales. They had two children, a little girl named Eliza and a boy named Louis; she couldn't tell which one was older, possibly Eliza. They were shy and didn't talk, they didn't even introduce themselves; the mother did and then she insisted that they had something to do. Morales just gave an awkward smile and followed after his family.

Next on the list were Carol and Sophia; they were good people, unlike Carol's husband Ed. He was aggressive and rude, called her a little whore under his breath. Belle knew he thought she didn't hear him, but her father always told her that she always heard things that no one wanted her to hear and didn't hear the things that people wanted her to hear. Sophia seemed like a sweet girl and timidly asked Belle if she could practice braiding her hair, which Belle agreed to and Sophia grinned so wide that Belle was half wondering if her mouth would split. Carol was very pretty with soft, grey hair that glinted in the Georgian sun, but Belle noticed right away that her smile always tugged a bit sourly, a bit sadly.

Then there was Jim, he seemed like an okay guy. Smiled a lot, but didn't have a lot to say. Belle half wondered if he had seen war at some point because he had the same far off look that she had seen in veterans.  
Lori and Carl were next. Lori seemed overly high-strung, she didn't even look at Belle for more than a minute, but she seemed to have a lot on her mind so Belle gave her a once-off. Carl was a cutie; he kept asking her questions about this and that, and she patiently answered all of them while Glenn looked on apologetically. Glenn later explained that Lori and Carl were staying with Shane, that they were under his protection; Shane just got a little gold star.

T-Dog seemed like a cool guy; he joked about how short she was and told her that she needed a trim, but he offered her a can of peaches that she took with no hesitation.

The last two people she wasn't introduced to. Glenn just talked about them. The Dixon brothers, "they aren't necessarily bad people," Glenn reasoned, "Merle is worse than Daryl, especially with the sexist and racist comments. They're two peas in a pod, I don't ever see one with out the other."

"Package deal?" Belle replied and Glenn just laughed, "exactly!" He had showed her where they keep supplies, where they wash dishes, laundry, bathe, and everything else she needed to know. It all was slightly intoxicating; this was like a slice of heaven.

"Where can I sleep?" Glenn looked like he never even considered the question. The RV was packed with Amy, Andrea, Dale, and Jacqui. Jim had his own tent, as did Lori and the Dixon brothers. T-Dog made do with an old tent and a tarp. The Morales family slept in their car and Belle didn't have a tent strapped to her back. For a second, Glenn looked embarrassed, but it passed as soon as it came on.

"I - uh, I have space, you can bunk with me until we can find you tent, sound good?" Belle nodded her head, "sounds great. Lead on Obi-Wan."

Glenn laughed, "oh good - a geek." She shrugged her shoulders, smiling slyly, "takes one to know one." Glenn chuckled and shook his head before beckoning her to follow him. She hitched her backpack up on her shoulders as the straps started to move from the weight. She didn't have much in her pack, but it was made for school supplies, but running from biters.

When they reached a greenish-grey looking tent, Glenn unzipped it quickly and stepped inside before Belle followed in after. The inside of the tent was what she pictured a Bachelor pad to look like; it was messy, very much so. There were clothes haphazardly scattered around and blankets that had been shuffled around. In her mind's eye, all it was missing was a television and a game console. Glenn was hurriedly picking up the scattered articles of clothing with reddened cheeks, "if I knew I would be hosting visitors at my tent, I would've cleaned up first." His joke made her snicker quietly. His arms were jumbled up with clothes and blankets before he dumped them on a sleeping bag. When he turned around and their eyes met, Glenn scratched the back of his neck, "I'll - uh, go get you a spare sleeping bag." He brushed against her when he exited the tent and that's when Belle seized the moment to throw her pack to the ground before tearing off her sweatshirt. Her skin was raised, swollen even with a hot torch of red shading her skin; it even began peeling already. Hissing to herself through clenched teeth, Belle picked off the skin lazily before looking through her bag.

She thanked her past self for tucking away a bottle of lotion at the bottom of her back, which is used religiously after paint class. She pumped the bottle, watching the beige tinted lotion squeeze out before lathering her arms and neck with it. The tent moved and she heard Glenn's stifled laughter from behind her back, "woah, that's one gnarly sunburn you have going there."

Belle through him a narrow-eyed smile, "I thank my Dad for being every European ethnicity there is."

"I got a pretty nasty sunburn before I stumbled onto these guys," he flipped a pointed thumb over his shoulder, huddling the sleeping bag under his other arm, "I had to just live it out and uh - peel like a baked potato." He looked around awkwardly and Belle sighed before shuffling her sweatshirt back over her head; she wasn't a pretty sight to behold. Besides the nasty sunburn that prickled at her skin, she knew that her skin was littered with cuts, bruises, and the like. When she popped her head through her sweatshirt, Glenn had placed the sleeping bag down at her feet.

"It smells like mothballs and we ran it through the laundry cycle more than once, but it'll be warm during the nights."

"Thank you, and trust me: I don't care what it smells like, I probably smell worse."


End file.
